No More
by lorann
Summary: He couldn't stand it any longer, so he became no more... Oneshot Suicide


**Ayo.** This is rated T for some language and character death, soo...

I said it's Drama/Tragedy...it really isn't that bad. But please let me know what you think. That includes you, just so you know. -points at you, who thinks they're going to get away without reviewing-

I'll hunt you down if you add this/me to your favorite something...but don't review.

-shakes virtual fist at you-

**Disclaimer: Psh-ah. I dunnot own anything relating to High School Musical! Nothing worth while, anyways...**

* * *

Ryan Evans sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, leaning against his bed. He stared coldly at the wall before him, ignoring the blood that was now soaking into his jeans. It was not enough. He hadn't made the cut deep enough.

Slowly, and with much effort, he rose to his feet. He swayed at the sudden feeling of being light-headed, his thin body not adjusted to the great amount of blood being lost.

He gripped the long wound trailing up his left arm with his right hand, his knuckles white as he applied pressure. He stumbled his way out of his room, knowing no one but his twin sister, Sharpay, was home. He didn't mind much. She'd be locked in her room, chatting with her fluffy dog that Ryan despised so much.

The dog reminded him greatly of his sister, actually. Small. Delicate. Blonde. Big brown eyes.

Stupid, annoying, bitch of a dog.

Ah yes. A great resemblance.

Ryan made his way to his parent's room. The room was large, cold, dull, and rich-looking. Another great resemblance to it's owner.

The slowly-paling blonde boy found the key he'd known about for years. He grabbed it with his good hand, not caring about the mess his innocent blood was leaving throughout the hallow house.

After what felt like an eternity to Ryan, he managed to open the glass case and pull out his prize. His eyes ran deliciously over the sheen hand gun, the dread and excitement flooding through him and knotting his stomach. He smiled, a hysterical twinkle in his eye.

He gripped the gun tightly against his chest, his heart rate speeding up. But no, not here. This empty room his neglectful parents slept in, on the rare occasions they were home, would not be the place of his death.

His sweet, wonderful, life-ending death. Well…obviously.

A psychotic grin came to Ryan's pale lips as he made his way back out in the hall, his crimson blood staining the sliver of his precious weapon.

He got to Sharpay's bedroom door and knocked once. There was a pause, and then an annoyed 'what' broke the silence of the large mansion-like living place.

"What do you think, Sharpay? Heart, or head?" Ryan asked, his voice unusually light and almost eerie, in a horror film sort of way.

"You have nothing in your head Ryan." The bloodied boy's twin snapped through her door.

"I love you." Ryan said, though an amused undertone slid in with his serious words.

"Go away!" Sharpay shrieked, and her stupid dog started barking with it's horrid, high-pitched voice. Again, Ryan thought it resembled his sister so much, it ought to be her twin, rather than him

Ryan simply rolled his eyes at her response and raised the gun, aiming it at her door. He pretended to pull the trigger, and even whispered a 'pow', for effect.

He continued on his way and went down the glorious stair case, purposely letting his blood drip onto it, as a reminder to the people he'd so bitterly called his family.

Finally, he made it.

He walked into the light, sunny dance studio he had spent so many of his days in, during his short seventeen years on this earth. He walked to the middle of room and caught sight of himself of the mirror-lined wall.

Ryan smiled, seeing himself covered in blood gave him an almost comforting feeling. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. The blood was beginning to dry, even though the open cut on his arm still oozed new dark liquid.

He turned his back to his reflection. No more. No longer, would he be Ryan Evans, the unknown twin. He would no longer be the air-headed blonde many claimed he was. Never again would people call him a fag, or claim he was in love with his sister. He shivered at the thought. He would no more be raped with a cactus then love that girl more than he was forced to.

He put the gun to his head.

"Funny how you say nothing is in my head, Sharpay." He said to himself, looking up at the ceiling, knowing his sister's bedroom was directly above. "I'm about to die, because of what's in there."

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He wanted to say something else to the room before it dyed it a deep red. He knew these would be his last words, though no one would ever hear them

The realization of what he was about to do suddenly shot through him at such an intense rate his hand tense against the trigger, and Ryan Alan Evans was no more.

* * *

**Don't make me shake my virtual fist at you again...review!**

**Lurfs.**


End file.
